OH Lord! There he is again. Big grin. Mimicking my chaotic dance. Mark, matching my steps. Amongst the laundry, the old typewriter on a huge desk in front of a broken down green couch where I was doing homework for my aging degree, I was dancing. My ritual of a sweaty version of running/dancing to Van Morrison’s Wavelength Lost Dreams and Found Dreams in America. As I spun round on the outside, on the inside I was clearing, colouring up my chakras, emptying, calling up lights and energy, “seeing” beings, determined to deepen further and further into my truth or my soul’s journey.

When I had been married to him, Mark believed that all this was nonsense. In those days brilliant scientist, revolutionary left wing politico, funny, he mocked my urges to dig into philosophy and spirituality. Well not totally. He did read Jung and loved it as well as the highly charged music and lyrics of the 60’s.

We had had our problems but together we were funny, sharing a fast repartee and a lot of laughter. Now that he was a spirit it was not that different once I got over my anger for his betrayals and the craziness of the ends of our marriage. I got the giggles as I whirled for consciousness. “Mark you have to go away. My two year old is napping. I only have a short time to meditate.” I took my attention away from him, while cavorting, sweating, enjoying the gifts of my endorphins. In front of me rose tremendous imagery, transparent pyramidal forms a part of a vaulted yet infinite structure that rose beyond this space into the ethers, accompanied by the soft transparent presences of a little group of guides, one I now knew as Joseph. These scenic tutorials were thrilling to me and I coveted my meditation time. As Mark and I moved in different directions – he might have been dancing still but I didn’t pay any attention to him for awhile. Then I “saw” that he and I shared guidance! I began to understand dimensional levels.

Then the scene parted. Our etheric selves moved past Joseph, into a larger group. As preposterous as it sounds, I could see the Buddha shining at the end of the long basement. But these images flaired into poignant scenarios. Mark moved at an angle into a different scenario. I didn’t follow him. I just “knew” intuitive knowing is often mysterious, I just “knew” that he was individuating somehow.